Had a very brief one the other night where I was conversing with an apterite (may have been Spike? Not fully sure), when they mentioned they had seen a 9 that I'd "really like" which turned out to be KETONURIA scrambled up. I'm hoping they meant I'd like the 5vowel-ness of it, not that I actually really like ketonuria.

Dreamt the night before last that me and a team of people (possibly including some apterites) had been selected to play some sort of American professional sport thing. I started practising this and I can only describe it as some sort of cross between hockey, golf and words (it seems the main part of the game involved tapping a ball/balls into some sort of mini goals which had words attached to them (there were 5 goals, you had to say the word on the goals and hit the balls into them in a certain order I think (2 of the balls were numbered 50 and 100). Cut to getting to the stadium, and my maths teacher for some reason has decided to come but starts a raucous argument with a bus driver about his fair, and eventually only gets allowed on the bus because it's pointed out that swinging on the open door of a bus isn't a safe method of travelling. Me and my team decide to walk, but for some reason it now transpires that I'm dead and it's only my ghost that's walking with the team (despite being no different to when I was alive) which means I'm now unable to play (the team also definitely contains a friend of my sister's called Sam who is repeatedly mean to me). Cut to the stadium, and I've managed to get stuck on top of a very high structure that was randomly there. Someone has stolen someone's programme, only for me to then steal it but eventually give it back. I'm now becoming repeatedly panicked because I'm at such a great height (possibly about the height of 2 houses at a rough guess) on an unsafe structure, and shout for help. Luckily, it transpires that Graeme Cole is selling the programmes but has also developed a teleportation device, so he teleports me back to the ground. I then wake up before finding out if we win or if we even play.

With less than 6 weeks left until CO:LON, I've started having regular nightmares in which it's a disaster.

One a few nights ago: I left all my letters and numbers packs at home, so had to get James Robinson to host it in the Bristol style because I refused point blank to host a Bristol-style event. Because my subconscious self is just as relaxed, laid-back and mature as I am irl, I had the biggest tantrum you've ever seen about this - screaming, bawling, rolling around on the floor and pounding my fists into the ground. Apparently my subconscious feels extremely strongly about Bristol style?? Side note: James had packed a spare suit in case of this exact situation happening.

This only stopped when I noticed Callum Todd walking past the venue and decided to follow him. Despite him being a very vocal atheist, it turned out he was going to church... to go to a Srebrenica genocide memorial service. I hadn't been thinking about Srebrenica that day and, to my knowledge, Callum has no affiliation with anything to do with Serbia or Bosnia or the Yugoslav wars, so I have no idea what the fuck was going on there.

Last night's: I had left everything to the last minute and turned up to the venue with loads of stuff half-finished, including the conundrums (which I had to print and finish while hosting). Something I had planned at the start of the event was to sing a song with alternative Countdown lyrics; however, I hadn't finished these either so just started singing the actual lyrics. It was so cringey that I stopped it after 8 lines with the sign-off "And that's the most embarrassing thing that has EVER happened at a Co-event, which is a really high bar to clear!" before running away in embarrassment.

Right then, last night I was apparently in Las Vegas, at a casino that was for some reason being held in my old school's main hall and the only game being played was Blackjack. An apterite I don't recognise wins a decent amount of money, and then we all get thrown out of the casino for something Dylan Taylor did. We end up outside, and Jen decides she wants to make a call on her phone, which is (for some reason) in my rucksack, so she effectively drags me to the floor to open it up and get it out. And then I wake up.

Had one 2 nights ago where I was participating in the crystal maze. My team definitely included Bradley Horrocks and Tim Down. Richard O'Brien may have been hosting it. We'd arrived at out last zone and at this point had won 5 crystals, which was attributed to us doing exceptionally well in the first zone but rubbish in the others. The zone starts with me failing to complete the game in the time and as such should have been locked in, but I managed to somehow talk my way out of being locked in because "Bra would never buy me out" (it's quite possible that he was the team leader and it's entirely possible the other 3 members of our team had been locked in. Clearly Bra also bullies me in dreamland). Next up is Tim Down, who completely fails at a game where you sort of had to navigate in this room, and if you knocked some things down a wire 4 times or something you was locked in. Tim of course does this almost immediately (3 from the off I think) and gets locked in, but not having my persuasive skills remains locked in. I then wake up without knowing what happens but considering now only me and Bra remained and no one had been bought out, and if Bra is anything like reality is completely useless at everything he tries, it's fair to assume we didn't do well in the crystal dome.

Had a dream recently which featured a young, mid 20-s to mid 30-s Asian male player, who on his debut beat Joyce Phillips, despite playing rather averagely (which is no representation of Joyce's real ability ). However, the day after he smashed it beating Ray Wilding with a score in the 120s to Ray's 40, despite Ray getting a 9 which no one had heard of at all, leading people to think that the Asian chap cheated....

Had a dream last night that I attended co:Manchester, which for some reason was being held outside the gate of the back of my house (the place is absolutely overrun with those tall plants that are those plants that explode seeds when you touch their pods in this dream). The new format is introduced, which seems to involve working in pairs to complete a set list of numbered instructions. I pair up with Tracey Mills and we start our list. The first thing on the list is canoeing down a river that just happens to be there (the positioning of the river is a place that does exist near my house, yet no river exists there in real life). I vaguely remember instruction number 4 to be "go through the door", which involved us exiting the door of the next door neighbour's garden we were in. At some point I then go and introduce myself to Tracey (who for some reason is a bright shade of green in colour), despite having been doing the challenges with her so really should have been already quite familiar with her. We then all crowd around someone to find out how we did/get fixtures, whilst I frantically look for Bradley Horrocks (making yet another dream appearance). I must have been drawn against Andy SC, because I find myself playing him in a 9 round game. He takes an early lead, but an early problem ensues when it turns out I'd been doing the score in maxes only, whereas the host (not sure who it was, have a feeling it was Johnny Canuck) had been doing it by standard rules. After establishing the score as something like 22-7 to Andy, I put full turbo mode on and rattle through the rest, winning in the end. Before finding out who my next opponent was, I am woken up.

Had a very brief one the night before last where I heard that the morning Countdown Masters format had been revived (as well as being played on a unique set, which appeared to be a cross between a hardware store and my high school gymnasium), and another brief one last night where it had been announced that Championship of Champions XV was going to start on 19 September of this year.

[This may actually have been 4 or 5 separate dreams, it's hard to tell given how curdled my subconscious is]

Last night I was running a co-event in the Midlands somewhere (may even have been Nottingham) with Jeff Clayton and Lauren Hamer, however the start was delayed as the three of us had to complete community service by spray-painting lines down the middle of a road. For some reason, Jeff and Lauren obsesses over carefully painting every drain cover they see, which delays the co-event even more. We then head back to the events hall, which is a long building about half a mile in length and about twenty metres wide, big enough to house an entire community, and the co-event is taking up the entire bottom floor of the event. We sneak past our community service officers to the event venue, which it turns out is just my bedroom with about five computers in it. After breaking Graeme's program about a dozen times, my bedroom gets invaded by cats, which I scare away by barking like a dog, apart from one stubborn one, which I may or may not have beaten to death. I then wake up.

Dreamt last night that my family (definitely me, my mum, my dad and my sister...may have been more) had been invited to the royal wedding of Harry and Meghan because we were somehow related to Meghan. However, chaos erupts when the sound system at the wedding goes in the middle of one of the hymns (causing Meghan to announce over microphone that her earpiece has told her it isn't working...I was also fiddling with the hymn book a lot trying to look like I knew what hymn we were on) which seems to cut the wedding down by a very large amount to the point of people not even being sure in the party afterwards if they are actually married because they never said "I do" or traded vows. There is further trouble at the room we arrive at when it turns out this (upstairs) room is TINY, literally my head was scraping on the ceiling and I'm not even tall (I do recall I wondered how prince Philip would get in, Meghan also looked like she was about 12). So, that room is abandoned and we start making our way to some sort of Royal place on foot (possibly Sandringham, maybe Buckingham palace?), with me knocking something all over the stairs when we set of which causes me to be extremely embarrassed when picking it up with my mum and means the queen needs to wait. On the way there, I ask the queen if I can ask her a question which she says yes to and (finally at the countdown bit!) I ask if she watches countdown. She responds that she doesn't, causing me to be really quite upset and try and convince her to (to which she keeps saying she's busy with other duties on April Fools day and they just watch whatever is on)...I mentioned I was going to be on very soon, can't remember what (if anything) she said to this though. I must point out that now we are sat on a bench at my school and my dad is there but I keep blocking him from getting too close to the queen. A plane then descends in very close proximity, which prompts me to quip that it looked as though it'd crashed and for my sister to say it's wings were broken...

No sure what happened after this, but I'm sort of disappointed it ended and really hope the queen actually does watch Countdown.

Last night I find myself reliving the final episode of Lost, where- spoiler- everyone is in the afterlife, in a church and ready to 'move on'. Much to my surprise/disappointment, my 'church' is full of countdowners and apterites. It's soon decided that the first thing that needs to be done is a wedding ceremony for all the couples in the community, and I end up somehow being tasked with walking a one armed Matt Bayfield down the aisle. Mercifully, I then wake up.

So last night, or rather this morning as I didn't get to bed until 1215. It started out with a semi-final of the show between hazel drury and mark deeks. Hazel won in convincing style, and everyone went back to the green room, where A snooker table had been set up in memory of the recently deceased dennis Taylor (yes I know he's not dead yet). I play a hybrid of Tom CC and Bradley horrocks, beginning by potting nine reds from the break until it comes down to the final three balls. They're in an awkward position so I try to 'javelin them only to get the cue wedged through the table, but at that point Graeme arrives to give us a lift home anyway. On the way out we pass a TV showing a preview of Dylan Taylor's first UFC fight. I then wake up.

Had one last night where Zarte was playing his semi final against Dougie, except he kept coming up with invalid words and only just managed to win. One in particular was something like "ANATTOS, with a Z" and it turns out he'd actually spelt it something like ZYATOS, insisting it was an acceptable variant. Not even sure if the selection had Z and Y in it.

Short one last night, not really Countdown based but had a brief connection to it.

I'm going out for dinner with a friend, and then sent something to wear in the post on the day. In the package is a note from Zarte, saying he made a turquoise suit for me, I have my doubts but I grudingly have to admit I looked good in it. Is there no end to Z's talents?

Particularly disturbing one last night. In my dream, the world was being overrun with robotic replicants, and me and my family are holed up in my late grandmother's conservatory being menaced by a robotic replica of James Robinson. We eventually concoct a way to defeat RoboRobbo by hitting him with a live power cable and begin working on this, when the real James Robinson shows up and begins scuffling with his doppelganger. Rather than alter our plan, we decide to electrocute both of them, figuring that we can always revive RealRobbo with either CPR or another electric shock, when Kirk Bevins suddenly arrives and disabled RoboRobbo by breaking his arm. Kirk and RealRobbo are about to lead us to safety when I wake up.

Particularly disturbing one last night. In my dream, the world was being overrun with robotic replicants, and me and my family are holed up in my late grandmother's conservatory being menaced by a robotic replica of James Robinson. We eventually concoct a way to defeat RoboRobbo by hitting him with a live power cable and begin working on this, when the real James Robinson shows up and begins scuffling with his doppelganger. Rather than alter our plan, we decide to electrocute both of them, figuring that we can always revive RealRobbo with either CPR or another electric shock, when Kirk Bevins suddenly arrives and disabled RoboRobbo by breaking his arm. Kirk and RealRobbo are about to lead us to safety when I wake up.

Particularly disturbing one last night. In my dream, the world was being overrun with robotic replicants, and me and my family are holed up in my late grandmother's conservatory being menaced by a robotic replica of James Robinson. We eventually concoct a way to defeat RoboRobbo by hitting him with a live power cable and begin working on this, when the real James Robinson shows up and begins scuffling with his doppelganger. Rather than alter our plan, we decide to electrocute both of them, figuring that we can always revive RealRobbo with either CPR or another electric shock, when Kirk Bevins suddenly arrives and disabled RoboRobbo by breaking his arm. Kirk and RealRobbo are about to lead us to safety when I wake up.

Last night's dream is Countdown-related in the most tenuous sense of the word but the rest of it is mental enough that I feel it's worth sharing.

I start by walking home along the back roads of North Hykeham, accompanied by Scrabble player and former Countdown quarter-finalist Brett Smitheram. I arrive back on my street to discover that my house (the front of it anyway) has shrunk to the size of a small shed, and the entire street is now filled with Russian casinos, the largest of which is named 'ИЦИЯ'. I head into my house to discover that it has also been replaced by a casino, though it's more 'restaurant' than 'casino', and after asking one of the waiters (in fluent Russian, which I don't speak) where my mum is, I stumble across the characters from the Big bang Theory, who would be celebrating a same-sex wedding, but this is a Russian restaurant, and with Putin being, well, Putin, they're a bit down in the dumps. However, one of the waiters has secretly dreamed of being a programmer of fantasy-themed videogames, so after showing his work to Howard Wolowitz*, he gains encouragement, chokeslams the homophobic manager through the restaurant floor, and earns everyone a happy ending. We then all go and watch the Russian Grand Prix and witness a truly hideous crash between Esteban Ocon and Brendan Hartley, so if you're a gambler...

Very weird one last night...Jeff Clayton had been allowed back on Countdown and was filming his 8th game in his run (his points total was something around 690 so far I believe, I have a feeling it was 694). He was facing some really old geezer who seemed to either win the round or offer an invalid word and Jeff was becoming increasingly frustrated that he might not break 800 in his octorun.

Notable points of the game include the dictionary corner guest being Miss Brahms from Are You Being Served? (I know that she's not a real person, but she was addressed as Miss Brahms throughout). Susie and Miss Brahms had swapped places for some reason, with Susie occupying the seat normally occupied by the guest. At one point Miss Brahms's bra had issues and rather than adjust it privately off screen decided to adjust it mid round (revealing rather a lot), prompting complaints from a (laughing) Jeff that this had been extremely distracting and he shouldn't be penalised for not getting any words that round.

At one point Jeff either got ANDOSOL as a 6, or dream me found ANDOSOL in the selection but for whatever reason the selection was thrown over to the audience where Nick Hewer noticed Bra off his seat with his hand up when Nick asked if anyone could do better. After giving him a very elaborate introduction (something like "and who is that I see, who won 8 games with a mid 800 score last series?") Bra then responded something like "Yes. The ONLY one. It sounds weird but NARDOOS, N A R D O O S"). I recall there also being a U in the selection, so that gives (in no particular order) AOOUNSRDL as the selection - NODOSAUR and LARDOONS being the maxes for those still reading.

At one point Jeff either got ANDOSOL as a 6, or dream me found ANDOSOL in the selection but for whatever reason the selection was thrown over to the audience where Nick Hewer noticed Bra off his seat with his hand up when Nick asked if anyone could do better. After giving him a very elaborate introduction (something like "and who is that I see, who won 8 games with a mid 800 score last series?") Bra then responded something like "Yes. The ONLY one. It sounds weird but NARDOOS, N A R D O O S"). I recall there also being a U in the selection, so that gives (in no particular order) AOOUNSRDL as the selection - NODOSAUR and LARDOONS being the maxes for those still reading.

Don't know how you remember your dreams so vividly. Clearly just a dream though, I'd never be so smug

At one point Jeff either got ANDOSOL as a 6, or dream me found ANDOSOL in the selection but for whatever reason the selection was thrown over to the audience where Nick Hewer noticed Bra off his seat with his hand up when Nick asked if anyone could do better. After giving him a very elaborate introduction (something like "and who is that I see, who won 8 games with a mid 800 score last series?") Bra then responded something like "Yes. The ONLY one. It sounds weird but NARDOOS, N A R D O O S"). I recall there also being a U in the selection, so that gives (in no particular order) AOOUNSRDL as the selection - NODOSAUR and LARDOONS being the maxes for those still reading.

Don't know how you remember your dreams so vividly. Clearly just a dream though, I'd never be so smug

I wasn't sure if he was referring to you or Miss Brahms's Bra, or even just Miss Bra for short.

I have to just mention that I've never had a dream related to Countdown - or any of the people I've met through Countdown - in any way. I find this a bit odd, because a lot of my dreams are just re-hashes of stuff that has happened to me but with details slightly changed. A few years back, I was having a whole series of dreams that were literally re-runs of the previous day (although with random elements inserted), so much so that for a few seconds after waking up, I was often unsure of which version (the real events or the dream events) had actually happened. At some point, I'd have thought that some of you would have featured, but you never have. Or if you have, I've not remembered.

Plenty of other people feature, people I've known from school, from university, from previous jobs and so on, but never any Countdown people. What's that about, I wonder?

Two unusual ones last night. In the first one, I'm walking through Lincoln when I bump into a friend I went to university in Nottingham with but who lived in Lincoln. He talks at me for a while (he always was a bit of an enthusiast when it came to talking), then I remember that I still have a ticket to pick up a parcel for his son... From 2008. Somehow, the ticket is still valid, so I collect the parcel and hand it off to him, but this causes his wife (who's in a wheelchair) to do a Thelma and Louise into the Brayford Pool (a lake in the centre of Lincoln) out of disgust at me tardiness. Cue Jim Bentley, who dives into the water to save the woman, and also rescues a duffel bag full of stuff belonging to Mike Brown, who also suddenly appears to collect his stuff.

In dream number 2 (actually 3 or 4 but I can't remember the others) I'm running COLIN at the Ark* when I'm suddenly called away to attend to an emergency. When I return, I discover that COLIN has finished thanks to Mark Deeks and Graeme Cole running it in my absence, and Tim Down was the winner. We then have to pack away quickly as a group of 3 year old kids have arrived to have a party, and we have to stop various COLINers from swearing in front of the toddlers in addition to packing up.

*See the COLIN thread for news about this**.
**I actually used the asterisk this time, happy, Gevin?

I'm getting worse and worse at remembering details from dreams but last night I definitely remember being trapped in the Oval Office toilet having to deal with the aftermath of a truly apocalyptic poo when James Robinson dropped in and started telling be about an absolutely amazing thing that happened at a co-event, only for me to wake up before he's able to tell me the whole thing.

Double whammy last night. In the first, I'm taking a friend's trousers to be altered at a tailor's shop, the owner of whom is very unhappy to see me as it means he has to do work rather than playing darts, which is apparently more important to him. Long story short, I become persona non grata at every tailor in Lincoln, so I decide to give Dylan Taylor a tour of the cathedral instead, which results in a weird quest to discover various secret packages that have been scattered throughout the building.

Second one- I'm organising COLIN in the crappy smaller wooden hut of the Ark (which has increased in size by a factor of about twelve) and am panicking that everything's okay, even though there's over an hour to go and almost everyone's arrived (which is unprecedented to say the least). Clive Anderson then shows up and distributes bits of birthday cake (Tracey Mills gets the first bit) before Dylan Taylor starts a fight with a street gang outside, which results in about 20 COLIN attendees joining in and getting arrested. I then wake up.

Very detailed one last night...in this dream, I'm actually in champion of champions and it's implied I've won a series. My first match is against Spike, and I somehow beat him about 120ish to 50ish (heavily unrealistic!). The first rounds starts with Spike declaring 7 to my 8 and it turns out he had CAROUSE whilst I had CAROUSER. At the conundrum, both of us are blanking for the first half the time or so and Nick decides to throw it over to the audience even though the time isn't up. The person who answers is Jack Worsley, who guesses something I can't remember fully but ended -ABLY and guesses the exact word I'd been considering. This prompts me to eliminate that in my head and find the correct answer EXCITABLY on 19.5 seconds. After the match however, I complain to the floor manager (?) who might have been Philip Aston that since Nick didn't actually go to me in some rounds (he'd literally just asked Spike for his word) I should be allowed to be edited in saying the maxes in those rounds under the reasoning I may have got them anyway...or at the very least should be allowed 30 seconds at each one to come up with words (the suggestion to just use what I'd found in the 30 seconds on screen never occurred to me, though I might have been subtly suggesting I got them). Philip (I think it was anyway?) looks at the maxes and discovers the maxes in the 3 rounds I was not turned to were BROMANCE, ARONIA and IXNAYED (maybe not in that order, also IXNAYED was somehow an 8...or it was IXNAYING). I reason I probably wouldn't have got IXNAYED (or IXNAYING) but would have got the other 2 (I tell him I only got a 6 in the latter round). I also am stressing that I probably would have maxed if I'd been allowed these. I also at some point comfort Spike about the loss telling him that he'd done himself very proud. After this, I then get very confused about the schedule and start asking various people when I'm playing next and the general consensus is that since my match vs Spike was very late, it will probably be the next day.

Further notes from the dream:
- Ronnie O Sullivan was competing, and something about him being a strong contender because of his cue precision is mentioned I think (no idea how that is useful in Countdown)
- Zarte vs Paul was also a match in the first rounds of this COC, so at least it was a tiny bit realistic
- It's implied Jack Worsley was competing too, because I recall musing about how long the matches list on his wiki page would be...however I think someone tells me he lost his first match in this COC.

Last night I dreamed I was assigned to work in Skegness for some reason, and I showed up at about 7am in my sleepwear and wrapped in a bedsheet (hey, they say 'dress for the job you want, not the job you have', right?). I enter a nearby pub to discover that my mum is now its owner and Tom Carey is also working with me today. Tom and I head through some of the back corridors of the pub into a very shady looking alley where a lot of tramps had gathered. Tom and I decide to try to blend in with the tramps (not hard with me still wearing my sheet) and we arrive at my office, which, being Skegness, is now a funfair. Tom promptly pisses off and goes on the rides, while I mercifully wake up.

Last night's dreams started with CoNot VI, which was under threat from a saboteur leaving the wrong kind of cakes out for people to nibble on. Fortunately, this was quickly resolved, resulting in a final between Jen and Robbo (I woke up before I found out who was won).

Next dream was explicitly billed as CoNot VII, back at the westdale lane venue, and all I remember about that is Zarte helping with the draw before I woke up. I really need to start making more notes about dreams.

In the first, I'm playing Novak Djokovic in the final of Countdown. I don't know whether I just forgot the first part of the game, but it seems to sort of start at round 9. The numbers are (I think) 25, 8, 9, 9, 6, 3 (might be slightly wrong) and the target is for some reason 99. It appears that numbers are also being played to omelette rules, but I exploit the "burning numbers" strategy and give my solution as something like 25*8=200, (9+6/3)*9 =99. Another cut, and it's round 13 and I'm 11 points ahead, so I try and pick to flatten the round out - the max is 6 and I think we both get it. Knowing I need to just hold this numbers round, I get visibly emotional. The game is 25, 6, 6, 9, 4, 3 @933 (might be slightly wrong, but the target is defo right and there was defo the 25 6 6 9 and 4 I think, maybe not in that order). I think Djoko blanks, but I produce a perfect solution and am unassailably ahead at the conundrum. Not sure what happens after that. Probably got very overemotional.

In either another part of the same dream or a different one entirely, I find myself wondering whether I've been on Countdown yet (seemingly I have amnesia in my dreams) and decide to check the Series 79 wiki page to find I am on 5 wins, somehow already over 700 total points, and there is a female octochamp whose games had maxes of over 300 points (wth?).

So last night I dreamt I was watching Countdown with the intent of recapping it, and things got... interesting. The person in the champion's chair was a male Apterite and clearly part of the 900-club/CoC material crowd, and he was facing off against an elderly woman named Debra Nycholls (spelling on the surname might not be correct, but that's how I remember it).

Round 1 begins and the selection is, in some order, RRMKWTIUO. The Apterite declares 6 but Debra apparently has an 8. On her turn, Nick asks her what her word is and she says TRIMWORK. Nick, DC, Rachel and the audience are suitably impressed and she is duly awarded 8 points. I'm a little bit confused, not remembering having seen this word before, and go to Lexplorer to check if there are any other maxes. To my surprise, only 7s are available from this selection according to Dreamy-Lex. So I go to the Oxford Online page and search for TRIMWORK to see what's up, thinking it may be a new addition to the dictionary. It turns out that TRIMWORK is now present in Oxford Online and, in the place on the bottom of the page where the etymology/word history usually goes, there's a blurb that says "Added to the dictionary when it was declared by a contestant on Channel 4's Countdown on XX date 2018".

With the show continuing to move along, I know I need to get back to recapping and I open the live feed again. By now, the first Teatime Teaser has arrived, and the format of this has changed rather significantly. The male Apterite contestant is asked to choose one of several lettered/labelled envelopes (he chose envelope "C", I believe) and give it to Nick. Nick opens it and a video clip cascades out of it, enlarging to fill the screen; this clip, a la Catchphrase, apparently now serves as the clue for the Teaser instead of a simple sentence.

Not sure where this fit into the Dreamy-Countdown chronology (probably a different episode altogether), but the dream also involved the numbers game being replaced by an activity where a large green sudoku board appeared on the screen, with a single square on it lit up brightly in red and zigzagging across the board rapidly. The object of the game was for the contestants, who were visible in insets at the sides of the screen (I believe one of them was Tim Down), to shout out the number that they thought went into whatever square was lit up at the time.